• Lexie Magill
  • Branna Magill
obecny
  • Lexie Magill
  • Branna Magill

Camino de Santiago - 2026

Otwarta przygoda według Lexie & Branna Czytaj więcej
  • (B) Zubiri to Pamplona

    17 września, Hiszpania ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C

    Greetings friends. It's been a baller of a day.

    I was going to edit Lexie's post, adding my two cents, but going through the photos I wanted to add I realised they were numerous. My own post it is!

    I am indeed captain of the "let's actually look after our bodies hauling us up these hills" squad. Lexie has an extremely loose grasp on these things, which I find only mildly insane, knowing her. After only eating one meal yesterday she shrugged on her pack this morning with a "ready when you are!". I remained seated and stared her down, pausing as I processed, and expressed in a flummoxed monotone "we're having breakfast". Watching to make sure she selected something with more than 10 calories, we settled down to a very enjoyable breakfast. Yum.

    As we set off out of town we were caught up in a bit of a pilgrim mob, with a lot of others heading out at the same time. Audience - something deep in my psyche which I simply can't control (I try) is the sharp need to Be In Front. As such, I unfortunately quickly left Lexie (and the mob) behind. Please, no boo-ing, I checked with Lexie and she was more than happy to slug along alone, the poor little petri dish.

    Off I went, jetting along, passing pilgrim after pilgrim until (to my knowledge) I was officially Pack Leader. I put this down to two things, other than my sinful competitive nature: our carb/coffee combo earlier in the day and a great sense of revitalisation following the reorganisation of my packing strategy, which left my bag feeling magically lighter. Spring was in step.

    I, too, delighted in feline friends along the way, along with more beautiful sights, and a whole packet of biscoff cookies coming into town.

    I arrived an hour and a half before Lexie, secured us beds, had a shower, and took myself on a little walk around Pamplona which I am now very passionate about as a municipal area. Stunning.

    Highlight of the day was perhaps uploading my activity to Strava (tracking them on my watch) and learning that I made the 2nd fastest time worldwide!! Of all time!! ⭐🥹 The only thing that takes away from this is the fact that the fastest time only beat me by 10 minutes, and that's about how long I hung around in the shop buying my aforementioned biscoff cookies, without pausing my watch. Mum I could've been world champ! 😭 I would've gone quicker if I'd known it was a COMPETITION! But no, this is an extremely slippery slope for me; must NOT be mindful of this fastest time business going forward or I'll simply sprint straight through to Santiago. Can't have that. Lexie would shoot me.

    - Branna

    (EDIT: Branna discovering this about Strava is the worst thing to ever happen to me, I probably won't see her now until Santiago - Lexie)
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  • Zubiri to Pamplona

    17 września, Hiszpania ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C

    What do you know, I survived the night - that was paying really good odds, I'm sure many of you are surprised. The GORGEOUS Italian couple in our room not only were gracious and understanding about the noise pollution but also gave me some paracetamol which will hopefully help with the fever. I was so brain scrambled I couldn't think of anything to say in Italian other than thank you and sorry, but I got a second go when I saw her again in Pamplona (spoiler alert, also survived the walk).

    Branna insisted we eat breakfast in the same firm, semi incredulous voice she's been using on me for several days, the unsaid 'what the fuck is wrong with you' bulging to escape between the lines. She's captain of the calorie and hydration and ibuprofen police and I'm very very grateful. Decaf coffee! Tortilla! Two minutes into the walk, kittens! It all boded incredibly well.

    The walk felt quite busy relative to the earlier days. At one point I perched on a log on the phone to James and felt like the Angel of the North. Poor Jim couldn't get a word in without me looking past him on the screen to nod and say buen Camino to everyone on the pilgrim highway. Because I took many breaks to manage the chest, Branna ended up a few kilometres ahead and then some, which I'll let her tell. It's quite dull being sick, I shall try to be better by the next post so I can contribute something more interesting.

    - Lex
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  • Cat stats

    17 września, Hiszpania ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    You guys, today was just ballistic. Cat count is now at THIRTY SEVEN seen, alas only four pat, but two of those were KITTENS which I think counts extra. In one notable 20 metre stretch I clocked nine. Near passed out. I was on a video call with James at the time so no photos but he'd sign my stat dec if required.

    - Lex
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  • Proof of life

    16 września, Hiszpania ⋅ ☁️ 18 °C

    The diseased tortoise dragged herself 22km to Zubiri today, and that's about all she's got wind for so if you need me I'll be slowly decomposing in the top bunk. Looked for anything that might help in a supermarket near Roncesvalles but they take their shop delineation seriously so had to wait until about 1pm to get to a pharmacy in Zubiri.

    I walked past it three times, exasperated, told her all about my dolor de garganta and tos con phlem and she allocated me some basically herbal lozenges. I managed to get 100m away and have her come running out saying the payment didn't go through. They're helping but we are pretty far down in the trenches, so it's a bit like how high heels would help you see on top of a skyscraper.

    I am the LPP (least popular pilgrim) in the albergue and I can't argue with it. Ew! Tomorrow I'm going to have to walk with sunglasses and a hat on and possibly my towel as a head shawl as I'm developing a wonderful light sensitivity that just screams 'recovery'. If needed I'll shackle myself to Branna like a donkey and be led, but we'd need quite a long rope and I can frankly think of better uses for it at this present moment.

    Goodbye forever or possibly just until the morning, we cannot say.

    - Lex
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  • Roncesvalles to Zubiri

    16 września, Hiszpania ⋅ 🌫 13 °C

    The weather dropped from about 28° to 14°, and we were keen as beans. Off in the dark, we made quick work through the forest path, encountering an absolute bounty of farm animals as the sun began to rise. These bells charm the hell out of me I tell you. Ring-a-ding your way into my heart.

    Today was definitely not as unrelenting as yesterday, with about half the incline overall, but still had a fair amount of up and down. Even though it was cool, it was very clammy inside our rain gear and we quickly enjoyed that feeling of being hot, damp, and constricted.

    The scenery was, once again, a delight, I applaud the Spaniards. Applause continues for their tortilla and cheesecake - both enjoyed at our halfway pitstop.

    Highlight of the leg (other than the outrageously staunch horses) was coming across the trail-side exhibition by who I can only assume is the local lunatic. An array of vegetables, ranging in freshness, were laid out artfully in various states of decoration. Constructive criticism would include the suggestion of arranging them in dramatic scenes, à la the nativity scene (right on brand for camino), or perhaps Will Smith getting slapped by Chris Rock, if we're going modern.

    After an alarmingly long and steep descent into Zubiri, during which I seriously questioned if my knees would explode, we tottered into our beds, looking around aimlessly, unable to make decisions or execute complete motor function. After a stint of this, we came (slightly) to our senses and ventured out for a meal. One that goes down in the history books for me; burger size of my head, say no more.

    - Branna
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  • Roncesvalles

    15 września, Hiszpania ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C

    Branna told me when we were walking today the photo I posted of the Roncesvalles albergue covered in snow on my initial approach was the first time she thought wow, that's really cool. There's a self depreciating joke to be made about her referring to anything I've ever done, but if I make it she'll get the hump so I shan't. For the second day in a row, the approach was different so I'm starting to suspect I took a few cute little liberties in round one, but I plead snow obscuring signs your honour.

    After our mandatory and delicious conks, we checked in at 1pm, navigating the QR code process they have introduced presumably to streamline the process but from what we can see is doing anything but. Bizarrely access to the sleeping area and bathrooms was restricted until 2pm, so I perched downstairs in an armchair directing every second asshole - something about me really screams How Can I Help You.

    Some wonderful downtime in our quad with Marianne and Robert, French friends in their 60s or so, that paid us the perfect amount of attention i.e. quite little, but warm. Branna wrote her update about today's walk and I napped. On waking, she brought me up to speed on the Americans in the next quad (insufferable) and I did everything possible to avoid eye contact with Robert's untethered testicles as he rubbed cream after heavily scented cream into his legs and feet.

    Pilgrim dinner at 7pm, where we both went with pasta and trout in lieu of salad and chicken. There was also v nice bread, wine, and an icecream thing. I didn't take a photo as I was preoccupied trying to work out which one the irate waitress had poisoned.

    Choofed straight into mass at 8pm, handshakey bit still fabulous, but this time rivalled by a special pilgrim blessing. Peace be with you!

    Tomorrow it's a top of 13 degrees, can't tell you how excited we are. Thanks JC, looking out already.
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  • Varcarlos to Roncesvalles

    15 września, Hiszpania ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    Turns out that the forced splitting of the first day into two was a blessing in disguise (lady caz you sneaky gal). The walk today was Hard, with a capital Hard.

    Setting off at 7am we trudged along the road out of town as dawn blossomed onto the hills around us. Is it surprising that Europe is this pretty? Somehow, yes? The first 2 hours were gradually uphill, in a tiresome but charming kind of way, although the air was balmy in a suspicious manner that didn't feel at all correct for so early in the day. We kept an eye on this fact in our peripheral vision, not wanting any direct confrontation.

    The plod continued until about the 8km mark, where the trail had a hostile, radical, and violent acceleration in incline. I've hiked some hills and, fam, I have never stepped my way up a slope so slowly in my life. The next hour or so was a masterclass in Locking In. Eyes down, sweat soaked, water depleted, sign of the cross up to caz.

    Ever the optimists, we nevertheless counted our blessings. Rattling off "at least we're not....!!"s in grim enthusiasm, poking at our morale much like kicking a dead horse. At least we started early and would be finished before the temperature peak! At least we hadn't come all the way from SJPP! At least we packed a snack!

    Pros:
    The scenery? Comically stunning. The babbling brook flowing alongside us? Magical. The fox Lexie saw? Fantastic (Mr Fox).

    Cons:
    The piles of poop I stopped to inspect? Uninhabited.

    Highlight:
    Walking through a herd of gentle cow angels, complete with calves, lazily making a melody of cowbells.

    (Other highlight):
    Finish line Coke

    - Branna
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  • Gastronomic loitering

    14 września, Hiszpania ⋅ 🌙 25 °C

    All told we spent five hours at the bar/restaurant/supermarket up the road from our accommodation today, and I think of the four places in town we really picked a winner. From 11am to 1pm we nursed a coke and our packed lunches waiting for check in, then we optimistically rocked up for dinner at 5:45pm and nursed a second, somehow more delicious coke until service started at 7:30pm, getting home at 9pm and tumbling directly into bed. We went with the 20e set menu, which included bread, three courses and a bottle of wine. It was all really delicious, so chalk that up as another difference, it was yonks before I ate a truly nice sit down dinner last time.

    - Lex
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  • Casa Ferran

    14 września, Hiszpania ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C

    Here's what I can tell you about the private room Branna booked us in Valcarlos...

    (EDIT: This stinks of a smear campaign and I stand against it. Lexie failed to mention we didn't see another soul, so basically had a whole apartment for our private use, AND there was a second far better bathroom, with a lovely showerhead, plus a locking door - Branna)

    (EDIT EDIT: UM it was very nice Branna and you did a Good Job, it had a lovely bed and lamp to avoid big light and fridge etc.)

    It goes by multiple names which the woman at the luggage transfer place in SJPP knew and said "welcome to Basque country". All's well, our bags, like bloody MAGIC, were inside our room when we checked in. 8e. Barg.

    It was a room within an apartment, so shared kitchen living and bathroom. This set up was simultaneously very and not at all secure. Getting into the front door took multiple years of study and a gym membership, but then we couldn't lock it again once inside (something I'll admit after the fact lest James have palpitations). We were provided a key for our room which was purely decorative, and bathroom privacy boiled down to a little red/green slider on the door.

    The contraption in the third picture was in the kitchen. I initially thought dishwasher but then started leaning hot water cylinder. Open to guesses in the comments.

    The shower head is bewitched. There was incredible water pressure in the handheld device, but the socket thing to pop it in was very slack, allowing the hose to dance around like a violently enthusiastic cobra, redirecting the stream in a pattern I don't think mathematics is advanced enough to map. Quite fun.

    - Lex
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  • St Jean Pied De Port to Valcarlos

    14 września, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 14 °C

    Aka a series of photos of Branna's back, and if that's not doing it for you then I have quite bad news about the next five weeks. Waking up in a private room and walking without my bag are two things I didn't do at all on my first Camino, so it felt very luxe. Unburdened, we arrived into town at 10:30am and began an unmitigated mooch until we could check in (two hours early) at 1pm.

    Going via Valcarlos means all the climbing is tomorrow. The Buen Camino app tells me we did 13km, almost all on (very rural) roads rather than trails, with just 263m up and about 140m down. Tomorrow is about 950m up and 450m down, which will be a right tonic for my chest, rapidly becoming host to a wet cough.

    In preparation I got a very tactical nap in, and we are currently waiting until the kitchen at the bar down the road opens at 7:30pm. Gib.

    - Lex

    Hola, it's me, Nigel Thornberry. I was struck with a strongly curious thought on our trek this morning as to whether Europe has dung beetles. I've never seen a dung beetle and, evidently, I would quite like to.

    I let the thought float around in my empty skull for some time, until my companion prompted me, some 8 hours later whilst waiting for supper, to Google it. That I did, and friends, WONDERFUL news.

    Not only does our current region host numerous DB species, but in a passionate discussion with Google AI I discovered additional potential species to spot. These include, hold onto your hat, hedgehogs and badgers - upon reading this I proclaimed quite faithfully "if I see a badger I'm going to SHIT". What a dream.

    Circling back to reality though, animals already spotted include:

    Cow
    Horse
    Cat
    Pig
    Dog
    Chicken
    Sheep

    5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

    - Branna (Nigel)
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  • Une, dos, three

    14 września, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 14 °C

    Last night, when we thought we were going to Roncesvalles today, we decided to treat ourselves to luggage transfer today as it's going to be quite hot, the Napoleon pass is quite steep, and eight euros each feels like a number we could incredulously celebrate investing approximately once every three metres.

    Lest our bags end up more seasoned pilgrims than us, I planted myself outside the luggage office in the dark to be first in line when they opened at 7, and because cancellation wouldn't get us a refund, changed the destination to Valcarlos. I put up such a fight, you'll simply have to believe me.

    FORCED to travel without packs, we set about adding weight by virtue of getting our money's worth at breakfast - at which we were seated opposite Kate from Tranmere, a suburb of Hobart. Honestly.

    At 7:45, offeth we setteth, savouring the cool morning.
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  • The tortoise and the hare

    13 września, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C

    We found lodgings at a guesthouse called, translated, The Tortoise and the Hare, at which they have multiple actual tortoises and several thousand clues to that effect. I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions about the relevance of this particular fable to us, noting that Branna is trying very hard to not break the sound barrier and I'm quite proud of the effort displayed so far.

    We were probably overeager to assure THAT'S FINE when she told us all the single beds were gone and she only had an 85 euro private room left. I graciously ignored the sign that said 80 - don't look a gift tortoise in the mouth. Choking on incense and smiling beatifically as her husband somehow saw through the smog to light another, we checked in and got talked through self serve breakfast tomorrow (7e, yes) and communal dinner tonight (18e, no).

    The room had eight powerpoints and a rug that tried to kill us multiple times. We availed outselves of the perky private bathroom, went and had a hilariously low brow pizza and some beer in a plastic cup, and then I slowly rotisseried myself on the odd mattress throughout the night - despite wearing a mask throughout transit, I'm predictably sick.

    Poor old Branna had to listen to me pinball phlegm around my sinuses, racking up many triple point bonanzas. It's probably bird flu, a sparrow ate some of my pain au choc on Biarritz but I didn't surrender the remainder.

    - Lex
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  • Early lessons

    13 września, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C

    Arriving in SJPP we had notions of sailing into the municipal albergue (like my first time) and then tomorrow walking to Roncesvalles via the Napoleon route (unlike my first time, when it was closed due to snow).

    We were the second from our train to get our credentials from the pilgrim office, and approaching the albergue at 3:45pm added our backpacks to the line waiting for 4pm check in - we were numbers 18 and 19.

    As Branna as foreshadowed, nup. On Sundays the albergue randomly sleeps 15 rather than 34. Go bloody figure. There was dissention in the ranks when the very grumpy clerk started calling out names of people they seemed to be expecting, and plucking (french speaking, possibly coincidentally) people from the back to the front. A french speaking Korean bloke that was #13 and not getting a bed really went in to bat but she wasn't having a bar of it.

    We ended up sorted (see next post) but it was a bit of a preview - in the two and a half year gap between caminos, the albergues seem to have started taking reservations. Fek! Looking ahead to Roncesvalles I was floored to discover that not only was the 183 bed municipal booked out, so were the other two places in town.

    Getting to Roncesvalles is already a big day, especially in 29 degrees, so the idea of overshooting wasn't getting much love, and everything in between on the Napoleon route was booked too.

    Another pivot then - we'll go via Valcarlos, and split one 30km day into a 12 and 18. We invested a bit of time in booking the next three nights (Valcarlos, Roncesvalles, Zubiri) and went for a wander. It'll settle.

    - Lex
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  • Biarritz to SJPP

    13 września, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C

    Our second day in Biarritz was mostly spent having a snoozy cruise around more of the town, toddling through the market stalls and stopping about every 10 metres to squeak at a dog. You'll note the well-groomed gentleman rocking boots with the fur; apple bottom jeans apparently left at home.

    Around midday we flung ourselves through the sweat soaked gauntlet of more public transport, eventually arriving in Saint Jean Pied de Port (our starting line). We shan't comment on troop morale at this point. Where we were expecting to stay the night had an absence of beds and a presence of an incensed French woman telling people "piss OFF we're full" (I imagine, can't speak French actually, a rare fault). It was also as hot as the surface of the sun and my sandals (SUPPOSED to be comfortable foot refuge) had given me a burning blister - google, what's the Crocs complaint hotline? Devastating.

    Nevertheless, we prevail. We put our "we're on the literal brink but let's sort shit out" faces on and found alternative digs. A chance to sit out of the sun, a private room, and (for me) a change of shoes did absolute wonders for our spiritual wellbeing.

    - Branna
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  • Too soon for caffeine

    13 września, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C

    Sitting outside Les Halles in the warm shade, eating pastries and coffee successfully ordered in french (brag) watching dogs and children and listening to the tinkle of fountains and conversations drift across the square. What comes to mind? Correct. DANGER, DANGER, DANGER, all hands on deck, panic attack time. The brain is an interesting thing. I'd like to take mine out and shoot it. Think I need to stick to decaf. Several of your strongest wishes for the two trains to St Jean Pied de Port today pls. Sigh.

    - Lex (obviously)
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  • Biarritz

    12 września, Francja ⋅ 🌙 21 °C

    After three planes, an airport shuttle, two trains and a metro, I've never been happier to pay for the uber from the train station to our hotel - particularly now that the single tax is lifted and I get to share these luxuries and expenses.

    At the point we can barely string a sentence together thanks to fatigue but we're still keen to go for what turns into a six kilometre jaunt, something is special about Biarritz. It's a real treat seeing her in her sunny surf element, absolutely infested with admirers.

    I'd make this two entries but it's 8.30pm, I'm sandy, and I'm nearly falling off my funky orange chair in the hotel lobby. Why are they ALWAYS orange. Bran will post about our Paris entree in the morn, she's crashing too. Bonne nuit, units!

    - Lex
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  • Jardin de Luxembourg

    12 września, Francja ⋅ ☁️ 24 °C

    A polite request to not have me executed for posting out of chronological order, but allow me to take you 24hr back in time to Luxembourg Garden, Paris.

    We had a luxurious couple of hours in between legs of public transport (which included a very dignified sprint through the station from one train, the wrong train, to another, the right train), and decided to hoof it a few blocks to Luxembourg.

    (Lexie interjection to maintain transit dignity - right locomotive, wrong train. Who links them together so you can't access all the cars from the interior, I swear to god.)

    Emerging from the metro into the streets of Paris was quite exciting for me, and quite amusing for Lexie, and she graciously paused to allow me to jiggle up and down in glee. And it only slightly smelled of piss!! 👍🤗

    The gardens were an absolute delight, and we happily sat to people-watch with our supermarket picnic. Lexie compared butts with the statues and I toasted a conk in Eva's honour.

    - Branna
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  • Spoiling you

    12 września, Singapur ⋅ ☁️ 24 °C

    One of the perks (or downfalls, depending on your perspective) of this Camino trip compared to Lexie's last, is that she is now we (there's a GREAT joke there, mum, lexie, I know you see it). Thereby and henceforth, potentially double the posts. A 2 for 1 deal!! Oo la la.

    To bolster sister's food review I can clarify that the suspect second round of bread rolls were infact 'tomato rolls' - a bit vague and creative of a title as it was just orange tinged brioche. Not bad though.

    This leg of the flight started in absolute seething outrage that the empty seat between us had been taken at the last minute, meaning we couldn't fold ourselves across it to sleep like two grumpy ringtail possums. Our new row-mate ended up being pleasingly inoffensive though - very skinny lad who slept the whole way.

    Speaking of lads, the old mate in front of me had the absolute AUDACITY to wear jeans on a 13hr flight, so if anyone should be kidnapped by customs on arrival it should be him.

    Someone please also write a letter to whoever made the rules on plane temperature because why was I freezing underneath a blanket, a fleece jacket, and a scarf? Please explain.

    The absolute bounty of free food won me over however, as is exceedingly prone to do.

    Not too many photos as of yet (too busy shivering and looking around for the arrival of my next meal), but stay tuned.

    - Branna
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  • Hello from up here

    12 września, Singapur ⋅ 🌧 27 °C

    They still give you actual metal cutlery on Singapore Airlines and every single opportunity I had to pilfer a teaspoon tempted me greatly. When we were kids, our Dad would take one of us camping each year - or at least I think it was an annual event, to a kid time is a very elastic thing. Child A would go spend something like two nights on the side of the Mersey River rafting and toasting marshmallows and sitting on his back as he swam around, and Child B would get Mums Undiluted Attention, a heady and intoxicating brew.

    On one of my turns at being Child A, washing up cups in the river, I found amongst the stones a teaspoon with JAL stamped on it, and what I was reliably informed was the Japanese Airlines logo. It's still in mum and dad's cutlery drawer some 25 years later, possibly because I treated it like the most notable archeological triumph known to man. I assumed - which nobody bloody challenged, I'll add - it had fallen out of the plane, and landed in the river. It did not occur to me that someone had just nicked it. I left all these teaspoons in the sky where they belong.

    If we're ranking things from best to worst, and we are, because content at the start of these trips is scarce (woman spends 38 hours transiting through various tubes and corridors with 40,000 of her peers, ground breaking) and I am bored, then things I ate on the plane are organised thusly:

    1. Pesto pasta salad with hot smoked salmon - banger, what a DARK HORSE

    2. Raspberry yoghurt - more very long odds, the bookies will be spewing

    3. Pork stew with mashed potatoes - Branna told me that my assertion braised things stand up very well on planes was odd, but it certainly isn't wrong

    4. Cherry cake thing with custard - v nice even by ground standards and this is from a custard agnostic

    5. Fruit salad - a reminder of how good apples can be

    6. Salted caramel icecream - could have hammered a nail in with it, and I'm a icecream chewer not licker so that's fine with me

    7. Spicy (showing my white here) coleslaw with cold smoked salmon - bit weird but in an enjoyable way, like Anne Geddes photography

    8. English breakfast - the snappiness of the chicken sausage rocketed this up the charts but points off as was too full to finish

    9. Bread roll #1 - quite hard when allowed to cool, but bread-esque

    10. Bread roll #2 - had not had the concept explained very well to it, but retained points for Lurpack butter accompaniment

    11. Cheese and biscuits - so waxy, so dry

    12. Fish with fried rice and greens - eh! fine!

    13. Bread roll #3 - same hurdles as #2 but more stale

    Key takeaways: far more fish than I was expecting and it's only up from here on the bread front. Branna may have different views and I'm happy to hear them on the train from Paris to Biarritz which is next.

    - Lex
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  • Changi chemist

    11 września, Singapur ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C

    We're choofing off to Paris via Singapore, just two sisters with a spreadsheet and a dream. Travel broadens the mind they say, and I believe em. Is this not the most gorge anti-diarrhoea helper you've ever seen? I'm inspired. Note also the wonderful (vaguely soviet) statue repping a nation full of sleek couples and really unviably small babies, and the butterfly garden, which in the dark is really more of a sweaty sensory deprivation tank.

    - Lex
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    Rozpocznij wyprawę
    11 września 2026